I had this crazy idea - why wouldn't there be some surviving artifact of Jesus Christ in the modern world. What form would it take? 

He was a carpenter after all so it stood to reason that some hand made wooden artifact would have existed and, since he was God, been imbued with his aura.

I thought about some of the things I've built for my Society for Creative Anachronism events and - poof - a concept was born and this story flew from my keyboard.

Down through the ages legends persist of an artifact of Divine power that has the power to heal, raise men to greatness or cast them down. Some call it the Grail, others believe it is something completely different.

Legends say that Roman Emperors have been brought to see the light or cast from power by its mere presence.

The secretive and powerful Templars were reputed to have worshiped this artifact but it could not protect them.

One man’s quest will take him to the edge of the world where he will discover his life’s meaning and come face to face with the power of the Almighty.

29 AD

The carpenter rubbed the stone in smaller and smaller circles, smoothing the arm of the sella to the consistency of fine cloth. He knew that the details were what made a good chair; his father Ioseph had told him this many times when he was a mere apprentice.  The sella curule he was creating would serve as the travel chair for a powerful Roman and the details would make all the difference.

The other men in Nazareth did not appreciate the fact that Yeshua was willing to create furniture for the Romans like his father had before him. To them, he and his father were traitors, working for the occupying Romans. He understood now what his father had taught, that the only way to avoid the claws of the eagle was to appear small and weak, yet of benefit to the eagle.  A wise man did not dare the giant to step upon his head unless he was strong enough and cunning enough to cause the giant to topple through its action. Yeshua was a wise man, he knew his time was coming; he would go forth from his village and change the world, but not yet. Today his mission was to finish carving the beast faces on the legs and smooth the arms of the sella curule that the Roman Publius had commissioned for his patron in Rome.

He bent close over the lamb’s face he was carving. The individual hairs could be discerned so precise was his carving skill. Moishe had once said that Yeshua’s carvings were so lifelike that you could see them moving from the corner of your eye. Yeshua had once become so enamored of one of his carvings that he had breathed life into it. The wooden horse had whinnied and tossed its head on the plaque until Yeshua’s mother had discovered his conceit and chastised him soundly, reminding him of his place in the world. The only life his carvings exhibited now was that provided by the viewer’s imagination.

This was to be his last commission before he left home. Mother had wept and torn her hair when he announced the planned beginning of his ministry after the harvest but he would not be dissuaded. He was a grown man, home long beyond the time he should have gone forth into the world to find his fortune. His mother feared for his safety, knowing that he must go forth to preach among nonbelievers and foreign infidels; he knew that he must be about his life’s work.

The carving was complete and Yeshua once again took up the stones and began to polish the wood. Over and over he stroked the grain, taming it, making it smooth and pleasing to the touch. The chair seemed to glow with an inner light, so beautifully did he finish the surface. The final touch was the leather seat and flexible leather back.